Thanks for all the kind words relating to my last post — I am feeling a little better today, due in part to the fact that I ate a lot. I ate when I didn’t want to, ate more than I wanted to, and even drank some calories – because this is what people in recovery do, apparently.
I am starting to feel ever-so-slightly safer in trusting my body. I am learning what feels good to eat and what doesn’t. I am learning that when I am hungry and my stomach is growling, I should just eat, because obviously my body is making good use of the fuel I’m giving it. I am learning that I can actually eat a heck of a lot more than I think I can and still not gain an ounce. I am learning that a good way to approach fear foods is the hot bar at Earth Fare, where I can try a small, controlled amount in addition to a salad. I am learning that medication actually makes a heck of a lot of a difference.
But none of these things is the milestone that I reference in my title.
Today, after hearing how well I’ve been doing for the past week – how completely reasonable about exercise (I quit my long run, people! Just up and decided at mile two that it didn’t feel good!), how rational and soothing I’ve been in my self-talk – my nutritionist gave me the “okay” to quit the application process for residential treatment.
I honestly never thought this day would come. I’ve been steadily “finding weight” since the end of June, finally hitting a reasonably healthy weight (more or less my set point) about a month or so ago. Yet, my nutritionist was asking me on a weekly basis where I was in the process for going to residential. Even weight restored, she wasn’t sure how long it would last – and she saw too many red flags to stop asking.
But today, she asked if I’d done anything with the application this week (man, have I been dragging my feet) – and when I said that I’d put it on the back burner, she said that was okay. Okay, at least, if I continue to follow the path I’m on now. If I slip up, we’ll have to revisit it.
That, friends, is motivating. I want nothing more than to stay in my city while I fight this thing out. Stay in my community and my church and learn to lead and serve.
This passage has haunted me for years – and so adequately sums up why I am so determined to stay here while I recover:
But there was a more real life for Hester Prynne here, in New England, than in that unknown region where Pearl had found a home. Here had been her sin; here, her sorrow; and here was yet to be her penitence.
–Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter